


Lean on Me

by pancake_surprise



Series: Cool Dads Club [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Babies, Canon Compliant, Domestic, Family, Gen, Getting Together, Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Kita Shinsuke/Ojiro Aran, Minor Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Parenthood, Post-Time Skip, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pancake_surprise/pseuds/pancake_surprise
Summary: “Okay.” He makes a decision. A split second, life-altering decision. “Anything else I need to know?”She laughs, ugly and sharp. “What do you know about raising a baby?”“Nothin’. But I’ll learn. If that’s all, would ya please get outta my house? I believe my daughter needs me.”
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: Cool Dads Club [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877437
Comments: 111
Kudos: 554
Collections: Inarizaki Serotonin Rush, My favorite haikyuu fics, SunaOsa





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunaringiri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaringiri/gifts).



> Thank you Sunaringiri for sending me down this rabbit hole!
> 
> [Playlist for Lean on Me ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1mxuu9j2MS325FB8xr4aHn&si=e0546354922341d6)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Art by Sunaringiri!](https://twitter.com/sunaringiri/status/1330952154886987777)

A family, or kids rather, aren’t a life milestone that Osamu has given much thought to. Having kids of his own, that is. With no serious relationship in the past ten years to speak of, it isn’t really something on his radar. Or it wasn’t. Not until he opens his door to find an ex he hasn’t talked to in over a year standing on his doorstep with a baby strapped carefully into an infant carrier in hand. 

Wordlessly she passes over the car seat and gestures for him to push back the sunshade revealing the tiniest, pudgiest, human Osamu had ever seen. His brows crinkle, a small frown tugging at his lips as he tries to work out exactly what the hell is going on here.

“She’s yours.” 

Osamu blinks “She’s?” 

“Your daughter.” 

“Daughter?” 

“Yes, what part of that isn’t clicking?” 

Osamu rapidly does some mental math. If he’s correct, this very well could be his baby. His daughter. _Holy shit._

 _"I_ have a daughter?" 

The baby is dressed in a blue onesie with dancing flowers printed on the chest, a tiny bow clipped to a tuft of dark hair. He supposes _she does_ have some of the family features. But then, don't all babies sort of look the same? 

Osamu looks down at... _his daughter._ His daughter who he didn’t know existed until this moment. His eyes burn and his chest squeezes painfully, he feels like he’s drowning. A piece of him existed in this world for how long? And he had no idea?

“How old is she?” 

“Almost six months.” 

Oh. Six months. 180 days. All that time that he would never get back. “Ya kept my daughter from me for six months? Six fuckin’ months?” 

She shrugs. “How was I supposed to know you’d care about her? We dated for less than a month before you dumped me.” 

Osamu wouldn't consider what they did to be dating. They went out to dinner a few times, sure. Had a bit of fun. But they never talked about being in any kind of actual relationship. If he recalls correctly, their decision to stop getting dinner and having the odd bit of fun was mutual. 

“I’m not a monster.” He crouches next to the carrier, hand hovering over his daughter. He realizes he’s not sure what to do with a baby, not when they're this small, but the baby doesn’t seem bothered. She reaches for his hand, wrapping all five fingers around one of his own. Momentarily, all his anger melts away. A smile tugs at his lips. That's all it takes, his heart wells, filled to the brim with love for this teeny, tiny human.

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t ya call me? Why didn’t ya tell me? I would have helped ya in any way I could.” 

She shrugs. “Thought I could handle it on my own but I was wrong.” She passes him a folder. “Everything’s there. Birth certificate. Medical information.” 

“What do you mean everything?" 

She fixes him with an unimpressed look. “I got offered a job abroad. She’s your responsibility now.” 

Osamu opens and closes his mouth several times, at a loss for words. 

“Okay.” He makes a decision. A split second, life-altering decision. “Anything else I need to know?” 

“Wait that was-”

“Easy?” he glances at his ex-girlfriend briefly. “If ya think I’m gonna send off my baby with someone who wants t’ leave her behind for a job, yer crazy. If ya can’t handle her, I will. And I’ll be happy t’ do it.” 

She laughs, ugly and sharp. “What do you know about raising a baby?” 

“Nothin’. But I’ll learn. Yer startin’ t’ sound like yer tryin’ to talk me out of takin’ her. Wasn’t the point of showin’ up unannounced on my doorstep to get rid of her? Ya got yer wish. If that’s all, would ya please kindly get outta my house? I believe my daughter needs me.” 

Osamu can count the number of times he’s held a baby on one hand. There was his cousin, pushed into his arms at a family reunion when he was 16. Once while he was manning the onigiri cart, a very frazzled man passed over his son while he tried to fish money out of his pockets. Then when Akaashi and Bokuto’s daughter was a baby, he held her at least two or three times but not until she was well older than 6 months. 

It’s not because he doesn’t like babies, he doesn’t have anything against them. The opportunity to spend time around a baby has rarely presented itself in his near thirty-five years of life. 

Until now. 

That won’t be a problem now. He supposes he’ll have an infinite number of chances to hold a baby. Or at least until she isn’t a baby any longer, whenever that happens. He makes a mental note to check the baby book later.

Osamu stares at the baby. The baby stares back. 

His baby. 

His daughter. 

_Miya Mirai_. 

Osamu takes responsibility for his mistakes, not that this baby, his daughter, is a mistake. Osamu takes responsibility for his actions and this is no different. Even if the stakes are remarkably higher than any choice he’s made before. Even if he has no idea what he’s doing. But, like everything else in life, he _will_ figure it out and he will do it himself. Pull himself by the bootstraps and get it done. 

He takes two weeks off from the restaurant to try and learn how to be a single parent. His two assistant managers split his own shifts between them. He is already planning to give them each the biggest bonus he can afford to give them for their efforts. Surely, in two weeks he can figure this all out. 

That’s the plan. Until Atsumu comes along and ruins it. 

The baby books say that babies start sleeping through the night around six months but Mirai doesn’t show any sign of sleeping in stretches longer than four hours. Maybe it’s because she was snuggled in the middle of Osamu’s big bed and not in a crib as she should be. Maybe it’s because she just met him three days ago and now relies on him for everything. That’d be one hell of an adjustment for anyone. Regardless of the reason, Osamu is up at midnight, baby in one hand and phone in the other. 

“Samu, is that-” Atsumu pauses. “A baby I just heard? Cryin’? Wait, where are ya?” 

Osamu could lie and it would be no different than the other thousand times he’s lied to Atsumu. Except it would be different. Completely different. Because this lie involves a third, living, breathing person who relies on him for everything. Who is also Atsumu’s niece. Nevermind that he only learned of her existence two days ago and a full six months after she was born. 

Osamu takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Home, Tsumu, where else would I be at midnight on a Thursday?” 

“So why is there a baby cryin’?” 

Osamu gently nudges the binky back into Mirai’s mouth and sits down with a huff on the edge of the bed to catch Atsumu up on the past few days. 

“Holy shit.” 

Osamu rubs his eyes with one hand. “I know.” 

“ _Holy shit.”_

Osamu growls. “I know, Tsumu, okay? I know.” 

“Samu how could ya be so dumb? Haven’t ya ever heard of _using protection?_ ”

“Please, just shut up.” 

“Samu, this is a baby!”

“Ya think I don’t know that? Who do ya think is watchin’ the baby right now?” 

Atsumu growls. “That’s not what I meant. I just-I mean- this isn’t some little mistake. This _matters_.”

“Thank ya for the reminder. And don’t call my daughter a mistake, Tsumu. Yer on thin fuckin’ ice.” 

“So it’s a girl?” 

Osamu breathes out through his teeth. “Yes.” 

“I have a niece?” 

“ _Yes_.” 

“Well, I guess I gotta head down, make the short trip home to Hyogo. Meet my niece. Make sure yer treatin’ her right.” 

“What the fuck are ya even talkin’ about.” 

“I’m coming to help ya out Samu. what the hell do ya even know about raisin’ a baby?” 

“I’ve changed a diaper so I know more than ya do!” 

“Ya think I’ve never helped out Bokkun and Akaashi with their baby? I know how to change a damn diaper.” 

“Ya don’t need to come down, Tsumu. Yer on yer break. Ya deserve time off to relax with Kiyoomi. I don’t need ya worrying about me.” 

“Yer impossible. ‘Sides, who said I was worried about you? Like I said, I gotta make sure yer treatin’ my niece right.” 

Osamu sighs but doesn’t say anything. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid.

“Have ya told anyone else? Kita? Suna? Aran? Oh my god, Samu, please tell me ya told Mom and Dad.” 

“Of course I told Mom and Dad,” Osamu snaps. “How stupid do ya think I am?” He pauses. “Don’t answer that.” 

“So ya haven’t told anyone then? Why?” 

Osamu groans. “I dunno Tsumu. It’s a lot to take in and I don’t need everyone panicking and fawning over me. I’ll tell ‘em...eventually. I’ve only known about her for a few days. Shel doesn’t seem real until I look down and see her in my arms or sleepin’ in my bed.” 

“Samu yer the stupidest man I’ve ever met. You need to tell yer friends. You think they wouldn’t want to know ya had a baby? What the hell is wrong with ya?” 

“I already told ya why.” 

“I hate you so much.” 

“It’s mutual,” Osamu says automatically. He sighs. “What am I supposed to do here, Tsumu?” He lays Mirai in the center of the bed and curls up next to her. Not too close but not too far either. “ _I’m a dad._ ” 

“Well, ya could start by tellin’ the people who love and care about ya. Sunarin, Kita, Aran, Akagi, Akaashi, _me,_ ya know, yer brother. So they can help ya. Yer not alone, Samu.” 

“I just told you, didn’t I?” 

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know ya weren’t goin’ to tell me. I just happened to call at the right time.” 

Atsumu has him there.

“I’ll tell ‘em, just not until I figure out what the hell I’m doin’ here.” 

“That’s bullshit. If yer not gonna tell ‘em then I will.” 

“Atsumu, don’t ya fuckin’ dare.” 

“Then tell them yerself.” 

“No.” 

“Got it. I’m textin’ Sunarin right now.” 

Osamu doesn’t have time to deal with this. “Goodnight. I can’t deal with yer shit anymore.” 

“I’ll be there first thing tomorrow mornin’. And not a moment later.”

Osamu sighs. “Is there anything I can say to convince ya to stay home?” 

“Nope. Night, Samu! Give my niece a kiss for me!” 

Osamu turns off his phone for the night on the off chance Atsumu did text them. In that case, he’d rather deal with it in the morning when he’s had at least two more hours of sleep.

Mirai is asleep on his bed when Atsumu and Kiyoomi burst through his door at 8:30 on the dot. Osamu nearly drops the lid to the baby bottle he’s filling up. 

“Where’s my niece?” Atsumu sweeps into Osamu’s apartment like he owns the place. “If I don’t meet her in the next fifteen seconds I’ll explode.” 

Osamu screws the lid on before there are any more near messes and sighs.

“Wow, ‘s good to see ya too.” He and Kiyoomi exchange a nod.

“Yeah, yeah, where is she?” 

Osamu sighs. “On my bed. She’s sleepin’.” 

“And that is?”

“Where the fuck do ya think it is?” 

Atsumu claps his hands. “Great! Come on, Omi! We have a niece to meet!” 

The three of them crowd around Osamu’s bed. Mirai is still sleeping soundly in the middle of the pillow barricade he carefully constructed. Her little fists are balled up next to her face, her chest rising and falling gently with each inhale and exhale. 

“Wait.” Atsumu points to the makeshift pillow bed. “Is that safe? Shouldn’t she be in a crib and not boxed in with yer pillows?” 

“Haven’t been able t’ get a crib yet. I read online that it’s fine as long as there is somethin’ to stop her from rollin’ off the bed. But even that ain’t very likely with how big the bed is. Better safe than sorry, though.” 

Atsumu isn’t convinced, his mouth is still turned downward in a small frown but he doesn’t press the matter. 

“Woah.” Atsumu crouches down until he’s level with the bed, peering over the pillows with care. “Holy shit, Samu. That’s a baby.” 

In her slumber, Mirai kicks out her tiny feet and punches the air with an equally tiny balled up fist before tucking it back against her tiny chest. 

“What did you expect?” Kiyoomi crouches down next to him. “A cat?” 

_“No_ , but like, that’s a real baby.” 

“Did ya think I was prankin’ ya? What kind of lame prank would that be? ‘Hey, Tsumu, yeah I got my ex-girlfriend pregnant about a year and a half ago but she never told me about the pregnancy and oh she dropped our daughter off two nights ago and got the hell out of dodge.”

Atsumu gapes. Even Kiyoomi spares him a distressed glance.

“ _Samu_. Ya didn’t tell me that over the phone. What the fuck- that’s-that’s fucked up.” 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s save the pity party for later. There’s an adorable baby in front of ya and she deserves all of yer attention.” 

“Yer right of course, but don’t think we aren’t talkin’ about _that_ later.” 

That is, in fact, the last thing Osamu would like to talk about. Not now. Not later. Not anytime. Time to redirect. 

“Baby. Focus, Tsumu.” 

“She’s-” 

Kiyoomi cuts him off. “Precious.” 

Pride wells in Osamu’s gut. “She is, ain’t she?” 

Mirai’s eyes blink open taking in the sight of the three of them before her. There are five whole seconds of peace before she’s crying, puffing up her entire chest, using her all of her small but mighty lung capacity to let out a wail that could rival a siren. 

Atsumu and Kiyoomi jump back and Osamu laughs. “She won’t bite...Probably.” 

“That’s not very reassuring,” Kiyoomi mutters as Osamu dips down to lift his daughter off the bed.

“At least she doesn’t have any teeth yet.” 

Kiyoomi shudders. “Small mercies.” 

A few hours later and it isn’t just Atsumu and Kiyoomi invading his apartment, it’s the entire fucking circus. 

“Come in, ‘s unlocked,” Atsumu yells when there’s a knock on the door.

Osamu glares at Atsumu. “Who the hell did ya-” His voice trails off as Suna, Kita, and Aran shuffle through the door. 

“Atsumu,” Osamu says without looking over. “Ya better start runnin’ now because I’m gonna kill ya.” 

“Just be glad it ain’t the whole crew. I couldn’t get Bokkun, Akagai, Gin, or Kosaku here on such short notice.”

Kita grins. “Don’t go killin’ yer brother. At least not yet. We’re gonna need him to help.”

“Help with what?” Osamu hisses through his teeth. “Tsumu didn’t tell me to expect more company.” 

Suna crosses the room as he finishes tapping something on his phone and pockets it. He stops next to Osamu. “There’s a lot to do, just shut up and introduce us to your daughter already. Maybe then I’ll forgive you for keeping my niece from me.” 

“What do ya mean there’s a lot to do?” 

“Focus, Osamu. Baby. Where is the baby?” Suna claps between each word for emphasis. 

“Jeez, Rin, give a guy a break.”

Suna smirks. “Aww, but that wouldn’t be any fun.” 

“What are ya talkin’ about? I’m always a good time.” 

Atsumu gags. “Good to see you two are just as gross as ever. Please don’t forget yer in a room full of unwilling witnesses.”

“Shut up,” they say at the same time. 

“Thank ya for further proving my point. I’m gonna go get my niece. So either get a room or pull yourselves together.” Atsumu bounds into the bedroom. “Omiiii, company is here. Come show off our precious niece to the rest of the family! Hurry before Samu and Sunarin get all gross and lovey again!” 

Kiyoomi and Atsumu shuffle out of the bedroom and all hell breaks loose.

“Well shit,” Kita says. “Ya really did have a baby.”

“What is with you guys? Why the hell would I lie about havin’ a baby!” 

“Well,” Aran says. “To be fair we heard it from Atsumu. Always gotta take news from him with a grain of salt.” 

“D’ya mind?” Kiyoomi delicately passes Mirai to Osamu. “Alright, everyone.” Osamu stands before the assembled group. “I have somebody t’ introduce ya to.” He shifts Mirai so she too is facing the crew. “This is my daughter, Miya Mirai.” 

The crowd goes wild. Mirai is passed from person to person. Making the rounds, meeting her family, with Suna documenting it all. Perhaps, this isn’t as terrible as he made it out to be in his head. 

“Alright, everyone.” Atsumu stands. “Party is over. It’s time to get to work.” 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Osamu says. “What the hell are ya talkin’ about. I thought all this hubbub was over meetin’ her which ya’ll did. Rin has the photos to prove it.” 

“Shut up and just let us get started,” Suna says. “We have a lot to get done and only have the day to get it done.” 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. We won’t be takin’ no for an answer. Aran, could ya help me get the stuff from my truck?” Kita walks out with Aran trailing behind. 

“Wait wait wait, what exactly is _stuff_?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing much. Just a few things we thought ya might need. Picked ‘em up on the way here.” 

Osamu groans. He has a bad feeling about this. 

It is much more than a few things. It is, in fact, a lot of things: paint cans, a crib, a dresser, and about ten different baby contraptions he’s never heard of. Behind Aran and Kita, Kiyoomi wheels in a suitcase. Osamu elects not to ask any questions about that one. Time will, to his dismay, will surely tell. 

Standing in the middle of Osamu’s small apartment, Kita directs the fray. “Osamu and Rintarou, yer job is to clear out yer second bedroom so we can get to paintin’. While you guys are doin' that, Aran and I will build the crib and dresser. Kiyoomi and Atsumu will take care of baby proofin’ the rest of the house. Rintarou, once the bedroom is cleared, get to paintin’.” 

Kiyoomi unzips the suitcase.

“Uhh, do I wanna know what's in there?” Osamu says. 

Kita laughs. “Are ya movin’ in?” 

Kiyoomi doesn’t laugh. “No.” He unzips the suitcase. 

“He’s been lookin’ forward t’ this all night. That’s his baby-proofin’ supplies.”

“His _what_?” Suna says at the same time Osamu says, “He has a stash of baby proofin’ supplies at the ready?” 

Atsumu shrugs. “Should it surprise me? Probably. Does it? No.” 

Kiyoomi pulls all sorts of packages filled with stuff Osamu’s never even heard of before: rubber tubing, plastic locks in five different shapes, electrical socket plugs, and doorknob covers. “I’ve thought about this all night. Atsumu can do something else, I’ve got this.”

Atsumu grins. “He’s about to go into the zone people! You’ve been warned! Do not interact!” 

Kiyoomi slips on a pair of headphones, tearing into one of the packages as he heads for the kitchen. 

“I love him so much.” Atsumu watches him go and swipes at a nonexistent tear. “As soon as I got off the phone with ya, he was herdin’ me into the car to pick this stuff up. Isn’t he great?” 

“I’ll tell ya one thing, I’m glad he’s on baby proofin’ duty instead of you.”

“Samu!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Find me on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/pancakesurprisd)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Art for Chapter 2 by Sunaringiri!](https://twitter.com/sunaringiri/status/1337124929469345793)

A baby is a big responsibility. A baby becomes a child. A child becomes a teenager. A teenager becomes an adult. His daughter won’t be a baby forever. Soon she will be a toddler, a rambunctious kid, a rebellious teenager- oh god then she’ll be _an adult._ Regardless of what stage of life, Mirai will always be his daughter, now and forever. That’s a responsibility too big for words. 

He doesn’t want to learn to rely on Atsumu and Kiyoomi or Suna or anyone else for that matter. This is a path he has to walk on his own. Being a good parent, the best parent he can be is something he has to learn how to do without them. Because at the end of the road, he’s the only one that _has_ to be there. This ‘dad’ thing is something he has to master on his own before he can lean on the generosity of anybody else. 

Leave it to Atsumu to throw a wrench into that plan. 

The apartment is stifling with so many people milling around but he bites his tongue and swallows his complaints, then gets to work like Kita instructed. With Kiyoomi handling the baby proofing, Atsumu declares that it’s his job to organize all the other stuff they brought along, a mess of toys, clothes, and books. Osamu tries to protest but his argument is met with a room of disappointed stares. 

“Can ya just shut up for two minutes? Like jeez Samu, it’s the same thing as a baby shower just without the weird baby themed games. Let us _shower_ yer daughter in love and affection and, more importantly, _toys_. It’s not that deep.” 

“Yeah, Atsumu’s right. Spoiling her is a part of the job description, says so right here.” Suna shoves his phone into Osamu’s face but Osamu swats it away. 

“What the fuck does that _even_ mean?” 

“It means we’re Mirai’s uncles now and we’re going to do whatever we damn well please.” Suna hands him a paintbrush. “Now come on. We have a whole room to clean out before we can start painting. Atsumu can take Mirai.” 

With Mirai safely strapped to Atsumu’s chest in a baby carrier, the one recommended by Bokuto and Akaashi, Osamu reluctantly agrees to do as he’s told. He follows Suna into the spare bedroom and lets the rest of the circus take over his apartment, ignoring the uneasiness brewing in his stomach.

The spare room isn’t much. There’s a bookshelf along one wall, one shelf lined in cookbooks, another filled with the knickknacks Atsumu has brought back from international games with Team Japan. Half of them are broken since Atsumu usually lobs them at his head rather than put them in a gift bag like any other sane human. A little super glue could probably take care of a fair few of them but he likes them this way. They’re more authentic. More personal. 

The rest of the room is remarkably bare. A spare futon leans against one wall and there are a few boxes he never got around to unpacking the last time he moved scattered about. He doubts he needs whatever is stuffed inside. If it hasn’t been important enough to go digging for in the past two years then how important can it really be? It takes him and Suna no time at all to drag it all out into the hallway so they can get down to the real business at hand. 

Osamu eyes the three paint cans lined up in a row. “What color do ya think they picked?” 

“I picked them.” 

“You picked ‘em?” 

Suna hums and hooks a flathead screwdriver under the lid of the paint can and gently pries it off. “This can is ‘firefly’, it’s soft yellow. The other two are ‘basin blue’ and ‘mint parfait’.”

“Why’d ya pick those?” 

Suna hums. “They’re all pastels; your apartment is too dark and all you wear is black. I thought Mirai should have a colorful place of her own.” 

Osamu glances down at his black tee-shirt and jeans and is viscerally struck by how little he knows about being a parent. 

Suna glances at him out of the corner of his eye. “You alright there?” 

No. Osamu sets the paint can to the side then slides down the wall, hitting the floor with a loud huff.

“Osamu?” Suna sets the screwdriver to the side and crouches next to him. 

“I’m fine,” he lies. 

Nothing about him is remotely fine. Suna describing the care that went into picking paint colors is what does it. The tipping point, the thing that makes it all real. He has a _baby._ He’s a _dad._ He’s now responsible for another living, breathing, human and she is going to rely on him for everything. _Forever._

Last week he was a bachelor who hadn’t been on a date in over a year. Now he’s a single dad who only managed to read up to page 47 in _What to Expect When You’re Expecting._ To his dismay, there aren’t any parenting books on what to expect when you _don't_ know you’re expecting. 

He’s too caught up in his thoughts to notice that Suna left the room until he’s returning with a glass of water in hand. Suna sits next to him, shuffling over until they’re shoulder to shoulder. “Here, drink it slowly.” 

Between the warmth of Suna’s side pressed against him and the cool glass against his lips, he breaks free of the anxious spiral. 

“Rin.” It comes out broken. Desperate. It comes out the exact opposite of what he wants to sound like. He wants to be strong. Strong for himself but more importantly, strong for Mirai. 

Wordlessly, Suna wraps an arm around Osamu’s shoulders and tugs him closer. 

“Rin.” 

“I know.”

“I’m scared.” 

“I know. You should be.”

Osamu reels back, brows knit together, and glares. “What’s that’s supposed t’ mean?”

“Relax. It would be far, far more concerning if you weren’t scared.” 

“Hmm, maybe.” It’s a fair point.

“I know it pains you to admit I’m right but we both know I am.” He wrenches Osamu forward, manhandling him until his head rests against Suna’s shoulder, their backs against the wall. “Take a deep breath.” 

Osamu does. 

Suna cards a hand through Osamu’s hair and he melts into the touch. It’s the first time he’s relaxed in three days. 

“You’re going to be a great dad.” 

“Ya sound too confident in that. I don’t know the first thing about bein’ a dad.” 

Suna hums. “That doesn’t mean shit and we both know it. Are you going to try your hardest to be a good dad?” 

“Well, duh, but that doesn’t-” 

“And are you going to love her unconditionally today, tomorrow, in ten years or fifty?” 

“ _Yes_ , why would ya even ask that?” 

“Why shouldn’t I be confident? That’s a winning bet if I ever saw one. You’re already a great dad. Congrats.” 

“Rin, I-”

Suna turns, seizing Osamu’s chin in one hand, dragging him up until they’re face to face. “Osamu, listen to me.” 

He tries to nod 

“You put your all into everything you do. I’ve never seen you give anything less than 110% for something you care about. It’s going to be hard. I don’t have to be a parent to know that is true. But treat Mirai like everything else in your life that you love, give her your 110% and you can’t fail. You’ll make mistakes but you will _never_ fail. Okay?” 

Suna’s hand falls away but neither of them moves. 

“Okay.” 

“Good.” Suna smiles then elbows him in the side, hard.

Osamu groans. “Geez Rin, what the hell was that for?” 

“Someone had to do something about that ‘woe is me’ look you had on your face.” 

“But did ya hafta knock it off my face? Was there no other way?” Osamu rubs at his side where a bruise is already blooming. “Ya have the strength of a professional athlete!” 

“Oh, did you have another idea in mind?” 

“I'm not tellin' you, yer a menace." 

“No, I wanna know. What did you have in mind? Because I have an idea or two.” 

“Oh?” 

“Hey!” 

Suna and Osamu groan. “ _What?”_

Atsumu stands in the doorway, Mirai strapped to his chest. “I can hear ya flirtin’ from out here. Save it for later, jeez, don’t you two have any shame?” 

“Mind yer own business, Tsumu. And we’re not flirtin’!” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Atsumu flaps a hand and walks off. “You’ve been saying that for over fifteen years, sorry if I don’t believe ya anymore.” 

The room is painted. The crib assembled. The dresser filled with neatly folded onesies and stretchy baby pants. There are child safety locks in the bathroom and kitchen and rubber bumpers line every sharp corner in his apartment.

“Looks like it’s time for us to be headin’ home.” Kita stands and holds a hand out to Aran. “Ready?”

Aran takes Kita's hand, and with the other claps Osamu on the shoulder. “Yer gonna do just fine. But listen to us carefully right now.” 

Osamu nods.

“Don’t even think about tryin’ to handle this all on yer own.”

Kita hums. “Ya have all of us and more who would be here in a heartbeat. Don’t forget it. I mean it." 

“Yeah! Did ya really think you could just raise a baby and none of us would notice?” Atsumu crosses his arms. “Ya weren’t even gonna tell us! How stupid are ya?” 

“Hey, I was gonn-” 

“Haven’t ya ever heard that it takes a village? Ya don’t have to do this all on yer own. And speaking of,” he hands something to Kiyoomi. “Here’s the keys to the car. Yer comin’ back down for a visit in a week, right?” 

Kiyoomi looks down at the baby, currently snuggled safely in the crook between Suna’s chest and elbow. He smiles, soft and easy. “I’ll be back in three days.” 

Osamu holds up a hand. “Wait, what are you talkin’ about? Yer not stayin’ here, Tsumu.” 

“Dammit, Samu, just let me help ya for once. I’m on break right now. I have plenty of time. I’m stayin’ for a couple of weeks, just until ya get yer house in order. Ya can’t expect to know how to juggle the restaurant and a 6-month-old on yer first try.” 

“No, no, absolutely not. Ya just said you’re on break. The break that yer supposed to use t’ reset. Your whole life is in Osaka, I’m not keepin’ ya from Kiyoomi for that long.” 

“Omi survived the majority of his life without me. He can handle himself for a couple of weeks. Besides ya heard him, he’ll be back to hold his niece in two days. He won’t even have time t’ miss me.” 

Osamu appreciates their concern. He really does. But this is _his_ daughter. He already missed the first six months of her life and she doesn’t even know him. He has to prove to her, show her, that he will always be there for her. That he’s here to stay. To be her dad and take care of her until she knows she is safe, secure, and loved. 

“No, I said no.” 

“Stop bein’ so stubborn.” 

“No, ya have responsibilities of yer own. It ain’t yer job to clean up my messes.”

“Too bad, so sad. I’ve been cleaning up yer messes my entire life.” 

“Atsu-”

“I’ll stay.” Suna cuts him off without looking up from Mirai. 

Osamu turns on him. “What?” 

Suna hums, lifting Mirai until her head lays on his shoulder, her tiny body pressed against his faded EJP sweatshirt. She gurgles when he gently pats her back. “I don’t have any responsibilities and I’m on break too. Plus you can’t argue or fight me because I’m holding Mirai.” 

Osamu frowns. His gaze passes between Suna and Atsumu. “This was a setup.” 

Atsumu shrugs. “Maybe, but ya can’t argue with Sunarin’s point. He can stay with ya.” 

“You changed yer tune real fast,” Osamu snaps.

“I don’t care who is here with ya as long as ya have someone to help you out. And I’ll be back. Don’t you worry about that. Yer not gonna be able to get rid of Omi and me that easily, Suna Rintarou or not.” 

Osamu takes in the sight before him. Kita and Aran. Atsumu and Kiyoomi. Suna. All of whom dropped every single responsibility in their own lives to rush to his aid the moment they were called upon. Called upon by Atsumu but that’s beside the point. He wants to remember this, this feeling-home, love, and family-box it up carefully and keep it safe. To never forget that though he might be a single father, he is anything but alone. Sure, he could try to handle it all on his own. But maybe he doesn’t have to. 

Osamu runs a hand over his face and sighs. “Are ya sure, Rin?” 

Suna shoots him a disappointed look. “Don’t ask stupid questions.” 

“Good! Looks like it’s time t’ get out the spare futon! We’ll see ya’ll in a week!” Atsumu slaps him on the back before heading for the door. He stops, glances back over his shoulder. “Or ya know what, maybe ya won’t need the futon. But that’s none of my business.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be MUCH more of Mirai in the next chapter. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> [find me on twitter!](https://twitter.com/pancakesurprisd)


	3. Chapter 3

It’s empty. The closet, that is. Suna blinks three times for good measure as if that could solve his current problem the same way Dorothy clicks her heels to get home. No luck.

“Osamu?” Suna says from Mirai’s room. 

Osamu grunts. 

“Where’s the futon?” 

“I thought we put it into the closet in Mirai’s room? When we moved everything back in?” 

Suna hums and shuts the door. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” 

_Atsumu._

Suna shuffles back into the living room where Osamu is changing a very wiggly Mirai. Suna side eyes the couch, the ghost of future neck pain already making itself known, and accepts his fate with a sigh. 

On the floor, Osamu wrestles Mirai's diaper, gently pressing down the closure with triumph. 

“Futon’s gone.” Suna taps a quick **fuck you** to Atsumu. 

The reply is immediate, a string of winking emojis. 

Suna replies with the middle finger. 

**"You can thank me later,"** Atsumu replies. 

“Gone?” Osamu says. 

Suna shrugs. “You better not hog all the blankets. Looks like I’m bunking with you.” 

Osamu grins. “I’ve never hogged a blanket in my life.” 

“I have personal experience that proves otherwise but please keep telling yourself that. Whatever gets you through the day.”

The lung capacity of a 6-month-old is a marvel. Osamu has already learned this. Suna has not. Mirai wakes up right on schedule, 4:30 am, a full hour before he would be up for work under normal circumstances and worlds earlier than Suna has ever been up in his life. On autopilot, Osamu shambles out of the bed and into Mirai’s new room. It’s not until he’s sitting in the rocking chair that he notices they aren’t alone. 

“Suna?” 

“Did you just notice that I followed you here? It’s been,” he checks his phone. “Five minutes since she woke up.”

“Well excuse me if I was a little preoccupied,” he nods toward the sleeping baby in his arms. “What are ya doing up anyway, I can handle this.” 

“Let me take care of her,” Suna says. “You go back to bed.” 

“Rin, I’m not gonna ask ya to stay up in the middle of the night just so I can be lazy and get a few more minutes of sleep. I’ll handle it.” 

“No,” Suna says.

“Rin.” 

“No, Osamu, listen to me. Only one of us has to work right now and it’s not me. And don’t take this the wrong way, but you could really use some beauty sleep.” 

That was the first of many nights punctuated with Mirai’s unholy howls. 

A camera shutter goes off. Osamu turns around just in time to see Suna still holding up his phone. Suna sneaks a look at the screen, grinning at the image before pocketing his phone. “Adorable,” he says, still grinning. 

“Remind me why I let ya into my home?” 

Suna shrugs. “Beats me.” 

Osamu knows exactly why he lets Suna into his home. It’s two-fold. On one hand, he really does need the help and on the other, it took one look at Suna with Mirai in his arms to remember that the crush he’s harbored for his best friend hasn’t dimmed since they graduated high school almost twenty years earlier. They’ve grown and changed over the years and his _little_ (big) crush has grown and changed with them. 

Suna shuffles closer, holding out his arms. “Now give me. Mirai and I have some business to attend to.” 

Osamu doesn’t budge so Suna takes matters into his own, gently prying Osamu’s fingers one by one until he hands over the sleeping baby.

“You can see yourself out, like I said, Mirai and I have very important business to attend to.

It takes copious amounts of poking and prodding but it’s Suna who emerges victorious in the end. It had to happen sooner or later. 

It takes an hour but Suna is eventually able to convince Osamu that a quick trip to the grocery store, alone, is alright. Suna’s been there for two days. He knows how to change a diaper, sort of. He knows how to heat up the formula, test it on his forearm, and how to burp her properly when she’s all done eating. He can handle an hour alone with Mirai, no matter what the little voice in the back of his head is saying. 

It’s his first time alone with Mirai and maybe he should be nervous but he’s not. He’s still learning but Suna is confident in what he knows. Or at least confident enough to handle an hour or two on his own. Not that Osamu is all that much help when he’s here. He had a few days headstart but he’s just as clueless as Suna in the end. 

His phone rings. Mirai, bless her, is snuggled sound asleep on his chest and he will lose his mind if his phone wakes her up. Unfortunately for him, his phone is just out of reach. If he reaches for it, he will jostle her which could _also_ wake her up. It rings again, her face scrunches up and his stomach drops. He grabs the phone, answering it without bothering to check caller ID. 

“Hello,” he all but hisses. 

“Suna Rintarou, is that you?” 

Komori. 

“Washio and I haven’t heard a peep out of you since you left. I was starting to worry you got off at the wrong train stop.”

“You’re a bigger pain in my ass than Atsumu.” 

“I am honored, trust me. But seriously, you head to Hyogo and drop off the face of the earth. Not a single Instagram post in sight.”

“I am helping Osamu out, what would I even post on Instagram?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. THE BABY MAYBE? FaceTime me. I want to see my niece in law.” 

“Oh my god, I can’t deal with this.” 

“Suna Rintarou, Washio and I _race_ to the train station to help you learn how to hold a baby last minute and _this_ is how you repay me?” 

“You brought a volleyball wrapped up in a towel.” 

“But it worked! Didn’t it?” 

Suna sighs. Komori Motoya is a blessing and a curse. “Yes,” he says through gritted teeth. “It worked.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says, smug. “Now, show me my niece in law!” 

Suna does as he’s asked and although he acts put out, he’s more than thrilled to show off Osamu’s daughter, angelic and perfect Mirai, to Komori and Washio. 

Osamu knows it’s no big deal. Really, it’s not. And if it’s not a big deal, why then, does it feel like his stomach is going to forcibly eject itself or like his heart is going to beat out of his damn chest. 

“Osamu,” Suna lifts Mirai out of her carrier and hoists her onto his hip. “You have to chill out. We aren’t even inside the building yet.” 

“I am the epitome of calm.” 

“Liar.” Suna hip checks him gently but Osamu still goes stumbling. “It will be fine.”

“Ya don’t know that.” 

“What do you mean ‘I don’t know that’? There is _nothing,_ and I really mean it, nothing to be worried about right now.” 

Intelligently, Osamu understands that, yes, there is nothing to worry about. It’s routine. Standard. Nothing to see here folks. But _emotionally?_ Osamu is a goodman wreck.

Osamu wrings his hands and looks rapidly between the building, his truck, and anything else he can find to stare down for a moment before his focus inevitably shifts again, a tree, a parking meter, a kindly old lady sitting on a nearby bench. 

Oh god, he’s going to throw up. 

Suna stops in front of the door but doesn’t open it. “Osamu,” 

Osamu looks back at his truck then at the door handle then at the baby in Suna’s arms. “Huh?” 

“Osamu, _look at me.”_

Osamu does. Suna cups his cheek with his free hand brushes his thumb over Osamu’s cheekbone. 

“This is just a checkup. A totally, run-of-the-mill, nothing special, nothing-to-see-here checkup. They are going to check her height and weight. They’re going to ask us if she can sit up or if she can crawl yet. Then the doctor is going to ask us if we have any questions and we’ll be off on our way. We can even stop for some ice cream on the way home.” 

Osamu takes a deep breath. “I _know._ I just can’t help but get the heebie-jeebies every time I’m at a doctor’s office, ya know?” 

Suna huffs a laugh and throws open the door. “Yeah, I know. Trust me, if I could, I would take Mirai myself. I know you don’t like going to the doctor’s. But it’s you on all the paperwork.” 

“Dammit Sunarin, while that would be tempting, I’m not gonna abandon my daughter to face the-” he gulps, “doctor’s without her dad.” 

“Relax Osamu, I know that.” 

The appointment starts off normal. Like Suna said, nothing extraordinary to see here. Her height and weight are in the 70% percentile which the doctor assures him is a-okay. And since she started crawling last week, that’s normal too. 

But it all changes when the doctor instructs the nurse to bring back the 6-month-checkup vaccinations. 

“Vaccinations!?” Osamu all but screeches. 

Suna facepalms, grabbing onto Osamu’s forearm with his other hand. The doctor eyes them shrewdly like she’s sizing up whether or not he’s going to have to talk down a couple of anti-vaxers before lunchtime. 

“Yes, Osamu, vaccinations. Totally normal.” 

“Ya mean, like shots?” his eyes shift to Mirai, wiggling around on the baby scale. “Shots in her tiny arms?” 

The doctor chuckles and under normal circumstances, Osamu would have a thing or two to say about that but he’s too preoccupied thinking about _the needles_ they’re about to stick into his daughter. 

“Actually, in children this young, we inject the vaccinations in their thighs where there is much more muscle and fat compared to their arms.” 

That does absolutely nothing to make Osamu feel better. 

“How many does she hafta get?” 

The doctor reviews his notes then says, “according to the medical records you brought in with you today, it looks like she needs three. All standard for the six-month checkup.” 

Three. _Three._ No, thank you. Nuh-uh. Not today. 

The nurse returns with the vaccinations in tow and, yeah, okay, Osamu might actually lose it. 

“Osamu.” He whirls his head around and finds himself eye to eye with Suna. Suna holds out a hand palm up and gestures toward it with a nod when Osamu doesn’t move. “Come on, ‘Samu. Hold my damn hand. Squeeze it as hard as you need to.” 

Osamu gulps then nods once and takes Suna’s outstretched hand. 

He knows he kept his eyes open and glued to Mirai the entire time but that doesn’t actually mean anything because between the nurse uncapping the first needle and the moment the third was tossed safely in the sharps bin, is blank. He also doesn’t remember crushing Suna’s hand in a vice grip but the way Suna is holding it close to his body, babying it, is evidence enough. 

“You were very brave,” the doctor says once the nurse has left the room. To Osamu’s utter horror, she isn’t talking to Mirai but to him. “There are lollipops and stickers on the desk on your way out if you’d like one.” She laughs good-naturedly. “I’m kidding. Most parents are more than a little uncomfortable seeing their kids get shots. No one wants to see their baby cry in pain.” 

Osamu winces. Mirai isn’t crying any more, she’s contentedly sucking on her fingers and giggling. But her face is still red and blotchy and Osamu’s stomach rolls just remembering the tears rolling down her face after the fact. 

The doctor pats his arm. “Trust me, you did great. We just have one more thing to check and then you’re all set.” The doctor carefully peers into Mirai’s mouth. “Have you noticed any signs of teething?” 

Osamu shakes his head but stops when he realizes he doesn’t really know what the signs of teething _are._

“Well that’s alright,” she says. “Completely normal, but you can expect teething to start any day now.” 

Osamu nods mechanically. 

“Relax, you’re doing fine, I promise.” 

The doctor turns on her heels but stops at the door then turns back to face them. “Oh, and if you want to add Mirai’s other parent,” she nods to Suna “as an alternate caregiver so that you both have consent to bring her, the form is at the front desk.” 

Osamu doesn’t have to look in a mirror to know that his face is bright red. He nods again and thanks the doctor for her help before hiding his face in his hands and mumbling an apology to Suna. 

Suna laughs. “I’m going to have to agree with the doctor here, you need to relax. Now, pick up your baby, let’s get out of here and get that ice cream.”

Osamu is heating up baby formula when he slips into his latest Mirai related existential crisis. He knows he has to go back to work eventually. Osamu has been aware of this, on some level, since day one. But he pushed the thought to the back of his head until the date was too close to ignore. 

“Well fuck.”

“Too hot?” Suna asks. He twists from his spot in the living room, Mirai in his arms, silently judging Osamu’s formula reheating capabilities.

Osamu sprinkles the formula over the inside of his wrist. 

“Nah, ‘s fine.” 

Suna quirks a brow. “Then?” 

Osamu grimaces, hands the bottle to Suna, then falls onto the couch next to him with a huff. “Ya can’t make fun of me.”

Suna hums. “Sorry, no promises there.” 

“Right,” Osamu rubs the back of his head and leans back, shutting his eyes for a moment and listening to the soft, greedy noises Mirai makes as she gulps down the bottle of formula. “It may have just occurred to me that I have to go back to work soon. And by soon, I mean in two days.” 

Suna snorts. “Osamu, we practiced this. What do you mean you forgot?”

“I dunno! It seemed so far away!” 

Suna’s shoulders shake with a suppressed laugh. “Stop, you can’t make me laugh when I’m trying to feed Mirai.”

“This is serious, Rin! What the hell am I going to do? I shoulda been lookin’ into daycare or a nanny or something as soon as I opened the door to find a baby on my doorstep.” 

Suna stops laughing. The bottle slips out of Mirai’s hands and Suna shifts, hoisting her a bit higher in his arm and tucking the bottle carefully against her lips. “Stop, you can’t keep beating yourself up over stuff like this. We’ll figure it out.” 

“Ya make it sound so easy! I just got her and now I’m supposed to start leavin’ her with someone I barely even know? It’s hard enough leavin’ her here with you when I run to the grocery store and yer one of the people I trust most.” 

Suna grins. “You really know how to flatter a man.”

Mirai empties the bottle and Suna hands it off to Osamu. Then he holds Mirai so they’re chest to chest, her little head peeking over his shoulder while he gently taps her back to coax out a tiny baby burp.

“Wait, lemme get ya a burp cloth before she ruins another one of yer shirts.” 

Suna whips one out from behind him. “Don't worry, already on it.” 

“Well shit, sometimes I think yer better at this than I am. Ya know, I really appreciate all yer help these past few weeks, Rin. I don’t know what I would have done without ya.” 

Suna smiles, soft and gentle. The one that’s normally reserved for small cats and now for Mirai. “You would have done fine. You’re a great Dad, Osamu.”

Osamu rubs the back of his neck. “I dunno about that but I’m tryin’.” 

“Stop,” Suna holds up a hand. “I’m going to go put Mirai down for her nap and then I’m cutting this self-deprecation off.” 

Osamu sits back and shuts his eyes to fully appreciate the soft voice Suna uses while reading to Mirai. It’s Goodnight Moon today just like most days since they still haven’t gotten around to ordering any picture books beyond the five that Atsumu and Kiyoomi brought with them the first time they came around. 

“Okay,” Suna says, shutting Mirai’s door behind him. “Now what the fuck were you saying?” He sits down with a huff and presses himself right up against Osamu. Thigh to thigh. It would be distracting if it weren’t for the conversation they’re having right now. If there is one thing Osamu has learned from living with Suna for almost two weeks, it’s that he still holds a candle for Suna Rintarou. 

Watching Suna with Mirai has done absolutely nothing to squash that. It does something to his heart every time he catches Suna reading to her or singing her silly songs while he changes her diaper or gets up with her in the middle of the night so he can sleep. And damn, who would have thought that catching Suna reading _What to Expect When You’re Expecting,_ would be the most attractive thing Osamu’s ever seen. 

“Alright, alright. Fine, you win. I’ll drop it but I’m still sorry ya had to spend yer break here. I’m sure there are a dozen other places ya would rather be.” 

Suna frowns then leans closer. “I don’t think I mentioned, did you know I was planning on visiting Hyogo over my break? Even before Atsumu called me?” 

Osamu’s brows pinch together. “You were? Why?” 

Suna takes a deep breath and exhales, shaky and uncertain. “Two reasons.” 

“Two?” 

Suna nods. “I have something I need to tell you. And something more important to ask you.” 

“Oh.” Osamu pauses. “Are you gonna? Tell me, I mean?” 

Suna picks at his nails. 

“Huh, I didn’t think this would be so difficult. I’ve been practicing for years.” 

Worry starts to prick at the edge of Osamu’s stomach. Suna would have told him if something bad happened, right? 

“What’s goin’ on Rin? Ya know ya can tell me anythin’ right?” 

Suna exhales. “I’m retiring.” 

Osamu hears the words but it takes him a few seconds longer than normal to process them. “What? When? Why?” 

Suna huffs a laugh. “Well, actually, I already did. I should have said, I _am_ retired.” 

“Wait a minute, why is this the first I’m hearin’ about this? How long has this been on yer mind?” 

Suna shrugs. “It didn’t really cross my mind until contract signing was on the horizon and I just had a gut feeling, you know? For the first time, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to sign on the dotted line. And then it came time to sign the contact for next season and I didn’t want to sign. So I didn’t.”

Osamu’s brain is working overtime trying to intake and organize all this new information. “You could play another ten years if ya wanted though. Why now?” 

Suna shrugs. “Just felt right. Knees aren’t what they used to be. I love volleyball but I think it might be time to try something new.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Did ya have something in mind? Yer something new, I mean.” 

“That’s the second part, the question I had to ask you.” 

“Then ask me.” 

“Do you remember that promise we made?”

“The one we made when ya moved for EJP?” 

Suna nods. 

“How could I forget?” Osamu grins. He’s been waiting nearly 17 years to make good on this promise. 

A dumb promise they made before Suna moved to join EJP, that if they were still single, they'd go out on a date and fall stupidly in love. It was supposed to be a joke but Osamu is pretty sure he's already checked off the latter half. 

"Are ya gonna ask me on a date or what?" 

Suna hums. "I was thinking we could skip a few steps. Maybe I could just ask to move in instead. After all, you do need someone to take care of Mirai while you're at work." 

Osamu swallows then leans into Suna until their faces aren't more than a few centimeters apart from each other. "I'd like that," he pauses. "If that's what ya-" 

"Shut up, Osamu." 

And Osamu doesn't have a choice but to shut up because then Suna is kissing him. 

Sometime Later

The door to Onigiri Miya chimes and Osamu whirls around to greet the incoming customer but is instead met with a much better sight- his frankly _adorable_ daughter and utterly stunning boyfriend. Osamu walks around the counter and pulls them into a hug. 

"I didn't know ya were coming to the shop today!" he says. 

Suna lifts Mirai off his hip and swivels her around so she's facing Osamu. "We weren't but then something came in the mail and we had to rush down to show you." 

"Something-" he trails off when he spots what Mirai is wearing. It's a teeny-tiny Onigiri Miya onesie. 

"Are you...crying?" Suna asks but he's smiling. 

"No, there's just somethin' in my ey- yes, I'm cryin'! This is the cutest thing I've ever seen! Have I mentioned how much I love ya lately?" 

Suna smiles. "You might have mentioned that this morning but I sure do love hearing it. I love you too, Miya Osamu." 

Between them Mirai squeals, demanding attention. Immediately, both heads turn in her direction. 

"We love ya most of all though," Osamu says. "Mirai." 

Suna kisses her forehead. "Don't forget it." 

**Author's Note:**

> Single dad Osamu has taken over my entire life. Thanks for joining me in the brainrot.


End file.
